


Change Everything

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Eating Disorders, F/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"People like Tom never change."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change Everything

**Author's Note:**

> my son needs love and hugs

One year ago.

"Tom, we need to talk."

"Huh?" Tom looked up. Star stood in his doorway as he nervously filed his nails. "I'm sorry, Star, I ruined your birthday, and I..."

"Look, Tom I know you..." She sighed. "I know you've got anger problems. But please, try to...you know, tone 'em down a little. I know it's hard. Have you been taking your meds?" He looked up to a gaze of sympathy, and yet shame.

"...No..." His eyes darted to the floor.

"Tom, come on! You've gotta remember to do that! I don't want you to get in trouble because of it!" She put her hands on Tom's shoulders, then drawing him into a gentle hug. "Please don't cry. I'm not mad at you."

Tom blinked. He barely even noticed he was crying. "Tom, I'm not lying to you."

"I know, I just..." He wiped his face. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It's okay." 

Ten months ago.

"Tom. I'm worried about you."

Tom stared at his reflection in the mirror. Bony, thinning, and absolutely perfect. "You don't need to take what that one guy said so personally. You weren't fat in the first place."

"It's fine." He bit his tongue as he spoke, trying not to yell. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I like you just the way you are."

"That doesn't make sense. Look, I'm perfect." He tried to smile, but his muscles only allowed a weak little grin. Star almost looked disappointed, shedding a bitter tear. "You don't need to worry about me."

"But I am," She sobbed, her cheeks going bright red. "I am worried."

"...I just wanted to be presentable."

"But I love you just like this."

"But nobody else does."

Silence. Star pulled a cookie out of her pocket, face filled with fear and sadness. Her other hand drummed on his protruding ribcage. It was just too much. What was wrong with him? He took the sweet thing, nibbling slightly on it.

"I haven't got any self-control." He muttered. 

"If you keep at it like this you'll die. And that would be the worst."

She was so warm, and together, they cried.

Eight months ago.

He shouted and scowled. That man wasn't even in his business. Why was he so territorial? Once again he found himself in his room, with Star at the door. However, this time, rather than a face of despair, she showed him an expression of anger.

"Why do you always do this?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"Every single time." She took steps towards him, gaze darkening as she shuffled away from the lamp light. "Every time there's a gathering and some other guy comes within two feet of me, you have to act all weird."

"Look, it was all just a misunderstanding-"

"You clawed him across the face."

He stared at the gore on his fingers. Oh, yeah. That happened. "I just don't know if I can keep feeling responsible for all of this."

"I, I'll try not to lose my temper at anyone, just-"

"I can't deal with it. I'm really sorry, but it's just too much for me."

And with that, she was out the door, leaving all silent.

Seven months ago.

He never wanted a human therapist, but he got one. Not because of his anger problems initially. Rather, because of an incident involving a noose, a stool, and a very sad demon with his head in the loop.

Everyone was getting worried. It was so, so troublesome. They even called _her_ back in, just out of worry.

"You didn't need to do that."

This was so humiliating. Wedged between his ex-girlfriend, her parents, and an anger management worker. He wanted to die, right here, right now, right where he stood.

"Just talk it out, Tom."

"Are you trying to make her feel bad?"

"Stay calm. Quiet thoughts."

"Haven't you got any impulse control?"

He couldn't think right. He couldn't speak right. His entire body began to shake and shudder. "Aren't you going to say anything?" Star's mother stared at him, eyes rife with loathing. He didn't mean to cause any sort of harm. He just wasn't feeling well.

"Mom, come on. He can't help it."

"Yes, he can. Just because he's bipolar doesn't mean he can destroy our reputation."

"Sorry." He finally opened his mouth. Fingers twitching, eyes cast downward, he looked horrible. 

"Sorry won't cut it. You'd better be willing to publicly say this had nothing to do with Star or anyone related to her. Understand?"

"...Yeah."

"Good. Then we're all settled." Thus, the Butterfly parents stood up, dragging their daughter away without another word. His therapist looked at him, worried. He had no words to describe the sensation running through his veins.

Five months ago.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He was on his knees, his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. His arms were covered in scars and he looked as though he were about to fall apart. Star's parents...always so angry. Because he made them look like they rose their daughter wrong. Like they rose her to break men's hearts and souls. 

It wasn't even like that. Most people could handle a simple break-up.

It was just him.

"I'm so, so, so sorry."

"Mom, you didn't really need to make him do this-"

"Shush, Star." Her mother grabbed him by the hair, holding him just below eye-level. "He's obviously holding a grudge. Demons don't feel things like pain, or despair. He just wants you to get back with him. I know his game."

"I know you're trying to help, but-"

"I said _shush._ And as for you, demon, get out of here and don't even think of coming back."

"I'm really sorry." He stared down at the carpet. The queen finally released him, leaving him in a crumpled pile on the floor.

"I said get out. And take your mental problems with you."

She turned heel and walked off. Star looked him in the eyes for the first time in months. However, it was only for a second, as she then stepped down from her throne and ran away. Why did everything end with him all alone?

One month ago.

He was finally getting better.

He got help with his anger. He got a bunny. He got lots of brimstone scotch. He was finally...happy? Though it took a very long time. He figured it'd never ever change. For once, he was okay. For once, he could smile.

Yesterday.

His room was dim. He poured himself a glass of liquor, staring into the silver of a jagged knife. He pulled it across his arm, and it bubbled with purplish gore, his flesh separating easily like taking an orange apart. 

Stupid Star. Stupid Marco. _Stupid me._

Slamming down the drink, the pain was slightly numbed.

Stupid stupid stupid. His eyes already began to blur. Even after doing this for months, he still didn't handle it well. But he allowed the numbness to swallow him, like a black void of nothing. No feelings, no sensations, no worries.

He lays his head on the table. Everything inside of him hurt. He couldn't numb what was really hurting him. He couldn't numb emotions.

And thus, his life would repeat itself once more, until he finally gained the courage to see her again. He really didn't ever change, did he?


End file.
